Looking for Love Lost
by alyssialui
Summary: Harry once knew love and to be loved but now that's long gone. He goes on an adventure to reclaim what was once his but is it all for naught? Harmione. Post-War, AU I guess. EWE and maybe OOC but we will see. Warning: Character death in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

_Summary: Harry once knew love and to be loved but now that's long gone. He goes on an adventure to reclaim what was once his but is it all for naught?_

_Harry has lost many friends and family during the war. Everyone sees him as the saviour of the Wizarding World but all the death has had a negative effect on the young Potter. Now he's but the shell of a man and talk of the town in hushed whispers. Everyone else has deserted him but his best friend, Ginny._

_This is a **Harmione** story, which is why Ginny is the best friend (not the love interest). Everyone who has died in the canon is still dead. Post-War, AU I guess. EWE and maybe OOC but we will see._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

It had been years since he last felt whole, since he last felt like he was worth something. He knew love, what it was to feel loved, but it was just a vague memory and never felt again. He waxes nostalgic from time to time but it brings him despair not comfort. What he would do for one last taste, one touch, one thing to bring him hope again.

Day in, day out, it is all the same. He interacts will all those around him but it's just a facade. He knows what they say behind closed doors and cupped hands. He's the one that had it all at one time, the one who was destined for greatness and who had finally achieved it. He was the one, the Chosen One. But now he is nothing. A ghost among the living, barely there and wishing to just past over. After the pleasantries are exchanged, they quickly run away from him. They don't want what has befallen him to happen to them or their loved ones. It seems that everything he touches is taken away from him. A dark cloud hovers above, stealing his warmth and warding off others.

All except one. She has been here the whole time, but he knows it's just out of pity. She was there when he once felt love, watched as he crumpled and fell to his knees, and she is there in the aftermath. But everyday he worries, for how long? When will that final day come when she just walks out of his life, disappears like all the others, and leaves him completely and utterly alone? It is this dread that frightens him while it fuels the rain clouds above, the dread that causes him to lash out at her and others and renews the cycle of self-loathing and loneliness.

A knock on the door brings him out of his fog, his internal meditation and half-sleep. It must be her, no one else visits. He lumbers out of his room towards his front door, the path easily traversed through muscle memory and lack of inconveniencing furniture. He pulls the door slightly, his eyes slightly burning from the bright light of the outdoors. A sight like him would frighten little children, cause mothers to draw them close to their bosom. But not her, never her it seemed. She smiles sweetly at him before pushing the door further and walking in, neither waiting for invitation nor resistance. This is their daily routine it seems and he grateful for her, though he never shows it. She will never know just how much her presence keeps him alive.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: So I liked how the last chapter went. I got one positive review and a few follows and favourites. Let's hope this chapter will attract more readers. It's a little depressing, same tone as the first, but it will pick up in the next chapter as Harry will attempt to change his perspective on life. Please review and share your thoughts._

_One more thing I didn't mention: Harry does not know Hermione. She had been sorted into Ravenclaw and never became his friend, so she did not play a big part in defeating Voldemort. What he doesn't know is that she had been helping him secretly but he just never realized._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

The girl walked straight through the living room into his kitchen. With a sweep of her hand, she collected the empty rum bottle and food containers that cluttered his kitchen's island, dumping them unceremoniously into a black garbage bag she found in his cupboards. She threw the bag onto the floor before she moved to empty his kitchen's garbage bin. She hefted the heavy bag, it too with empty bottles and decomposing food, and tied its mouth into a knot. "I'll put these outside when I'm leaving." She washed her hands, wiped the island's surface with a warm wet cloth before pulling out a couple of fruits from her messenger bag. "Come."

He looked over at her from his frozen spot by the still open front door, blinking slowly. Shutting the door softly, he stumbled towards her before plonking himself down into one of the kitchen stools. He massaged his throat, grimacing at the hair that tickled his fingers. His throat was dry and he opened his mouth soundlessly. She grabbed a knife from a drawer before quartering his apple and halving his orange, just as he liked. "How are you today?" she said with a smile.

He gave her a half-hearted frown before picking up an orange half. She always brought him fruit in the morning from her orchard. Said it was healthy for him, helped with digestion, and was way better than the crap he usually found to eat during the day. The juice was refreshing and his throat was effectively cooled only burning slightly from the acidity.

She continued speaking, she was used to their one-sided conversations, "Sorry I'm a bit late. I barely got out of the house today. Mum kept finding things for me to do to keep me busy. But-"

"That's because she knows where you go every morning. She doesn't want you hanging around me," he interrupted bitterly, finally finding his voice.

"No, it's not-"

"Of course it is, Ginny!" he shouted, tossing his orange onto the floor behind him. He stood up suddenly, his hands pressing on the countertop as he screamed at her. "I killed her son! Your brother! You almost died in the Chamber, you could have died at the Ministry. Hanging around me just might get you killed, based on my track record."

"You didn't kill anyone, Harry." she said softly, placing her hands on top of his on the island top. He took a few deep breaths as she held his gaze before sitting back down. Somehow, he always let her calm him down, the only one he would really listen to. He looked towards his discarded orange, the sticky juice surrounding it on the tiled floor. Noticing his gaze, she rushed around the island with the wash cloth. Great, another mess he made for her clean up.

She heaved a big sigh, her shoulders slumping, before turning back to him. "Harry, you saved the world. You did what none of us could. Many died along the way but that's not your fault."

He looked away from her and stared down at his empty hands holding the imaginary weights of all those lives that were lost, all his inadequacies, "Maybe if I was faster, maybe if I was stronger, maybe if I was smarter,..."

"You can't stay in the past. No, no 'ifs'." She walked around the counter and threw the orange away. "You need to come back to the present. You need something to bring you out of your funk, to renew your hope. You need to see that the world is still beautiful place."

"I don't want to get hurt again, Gin. I don't want anyone else to get hurt." He said desperately, clutching his arms for support.

She walked back to him and placed a comforting hand over one of his. "You won't get hurt again, Harry. You have to take a risk and let someone in. And maybe that person won't mind taking the risk with you."

So trapped in his own thoughts, he didn't hear her kind yet hopeful words, he didn't feel her warm touch, he didn't see her getting closer to him. She was a hair's breadth away, her breath caught in her throat, when suddenly got up from the stool on his other side. She almost fell through the air as he walked away from her towards his bedroom without looking back. His footsteps made heavy sounds on the floor, his head bowed down, as he muttered, 'No one should get hurt.'


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Harry has a breakdown in the busy street and decides that he really just needs to get away and start over. I had a bit of trouble with this chapter because I needed to explain the background of the story which would lead up to a reason for Harry to want to leave and not just hole up in his house for the rest of his life. I think a breakdown is a good way and it helps to express what his mental state is. I'm just not sure if maybe it's a bit over the top. But I guess if Harry caged up all his feelings, had no Hermione, and kept Ginny around but keep her at arms-length in fear of hurting her too, then he might be prone to breakdowns, especially after all those around him died at, what he feels, his hands._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

She left soon after he had walked away from her. There was some rustling and movement before the faint sound of the door opening and closing. He could have walked back out into the living room but he didn't. He could have called her back but didn't. Sometimes he wanted to be alone, sometimes he wanted her gone, but other times he needed her there. What was wrong with him?

He must be the most insufferable person to be around. No wonder she just walked out without checking up on him. In anger, he blindly picked up the closest thing within his grasp and threw it forcibly to the ground. The sprinkling sound of breaking glass snapped him out of his rage. What had he done? He stared down at the pieces, at first unable to identify what had been destroyed. He stooped down into the puddle of water around his feet, uncaring if he should cut himself and picked up one of the jagged shards. It reflected the sliver of light coming through a small space between his curtains, small coloured specks on its surface glittering.

This used to be a snowglobe, he remembered. He remembered going to Muggle London with Ginny in search of a present for her father. They stopped into a quaint trinket shop knowing Mr Weasley's fondness for all things muggle. Eyes raking over all the doodads and baubles, they eventually fell onto a oddly-shaped cabinet of snowglobes. Some were as big as the crystal ball from Divination and others as small as a golf ball. Ginny squealed in delight, picking up a few and shaking them, causing the glitter inside to swirl around. He remembered just how wide her smile was, how she chattered about the incredibility of such a cute gift, how smart muggles were to come up with something like this, and how she ran straight up to the cash register before realizing she had no idea how to pay for it. After a few laughs, they left the trinket shop before she reached into the bag and handed him one. "I got one for you since you took me out today."

His had been one of the small golf ball-sized ones. He looked at the broken centerpiece that the glitter once circled. It had been a small model of the Sydney Opera House from the shelf that had the international landmarks. She had picked it up because she thought it was strange and joked its similarity with him. Harry ran his fingers over the small domes, blue glitter attaching itself to his finger. It would be nice wouldn't it? To actually go to somewhere like that, to be inspired and awed and see things he'd never seen before. To be so far away that no one knew who you were, no one gave you strange looks of pity or shallow sympathy. To feel normal and happy again. It would be nice.

* * *

Ginny woke up the next day, stretching as she looked out the window. She could see the orchard and already spotted two oranges she could pick. She would visit Harry with his fruits as she did every morning. She padded around silently, getting dressed quickly without alerting anyone she was awake. She knew if anyone saw her before she left, they would try to stop, especially her mother. It was tiring to argue with her mother every morning but Harry was worth it.

Everyone had deserted him, especially when he needed them the most. He had the worst luck: born as the Chosen one and becoming Voldemort's number one target. Those who had stepped in protect Harry had all been wiped out - his parents, Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, members of the Order like Remus, Tonks and Moody, and even her own brother. A lone tear fell from Ginny's eye as she pulled her shirt over her head. Thinking of Fred was always hard but she could not blame Harry for that. But of her family, she was the only one. Her mother definitely thought Harry's rain cloud would fall on another of her children and pulled those most impressionable to her: Ron and Percy. Her other brothers just did not want to upset their mother and just stayed away. If it wasn't Ginny's rebellious nature, she would have probably locked her in her room already.

She thought about her morning with Harry yesterday. He was right when he said she could have died in the Chamber and at the Ministry. She could have even died during the Battle. Except the Chamber, it had been her choice to go out there. She wanted to be by his side, she wanted to help him. She knew he needed her help and how grateful he had been to have her. She could never blame him even if she got hurt. And in the Chamber, he had been her saviour.

Then she remembered her almost-kiss. She was this close, ready to take the plunge but she didn't realize she had already lost him to his own thoughts. Usually it took more time but he must have had a bad night. She hoped he was in a better mood today.

Ginny walked quietly down the stairs and moved towards the back door before she heard a cool voice say from the table, "And where are you going?"

Ginny turned to see Ron sitting at the table, a steaming mug in his left hand. She reached back for the doorknob and said over her shoulder, "Out."

She heard him rise from the table, the chair scraping on the polished wood floor. His hand pushed the door closed just as she was about to step through. He said softly, "Gin, you need to stop going over there. I don't want anything to happen to you too."

Ginny stomped her foot, "What are you talking about, Ronald? The war is over. There is no more death, no one else will get hurt."

"You don't know that," he said condescendingly. He put his hands on her shoulder and made to steer her back to the kitchen. "Do you want me to make you some tea?"

She shrugged him off, "No, Ron. I'm leaving now. I'm not in danger. Nothing will happen to me. It's people like you who prolong this negative stigma on him. People like you who deserted him when he needed you the most because you were scared." She ran through the door and out into the backyard, slamming it behind her.

Ooo, that Ron! and the rest of her bigoted family! Ginny fumed as she stood in the orchard, magicking the apples and oranges off the tree and into her bag.

* * *

The sun came up the next morning, making his room even hotter than the day before. He wiped his brow as his head rose off his pillow. Fighting to get up, he walked to the shower, his sheets dragging behind him on the floor. The bathroom was caked with brown and black sludge, the tiles no longer white but permanently beige. He took a shower in luke-warm water through rusty pipes, which made him feel stickier than when he entered. Just as he stepped out of the shower, the usual knock on the door came.

He got dressed and padded over to open it, his attitude not as dour as the day before though his head hurt from sleeping in the heat. The door swung inwards to reveal his friend again and she looked up at him surprised, "You took a shower today." before pushing past him.

She walked over to the counter and pulled the fruit from her bag and he followed behind without question. He looked around his stark living room. It had been very untidy yesterday, the couch pillows tossed aside and everything covered in a layer of dirt. Now, everything was back in order and the room didn't smell as musty. She must have done something yesterday.

She looked back him noticing he had stopped to look around the room. "I straightened up before I left. Come."

He sat at the stool once more, picking up an apple quarter. While he ate, she kept the conversation, telling him about her day yesterday and what she intended for today.

"Do you want to come with me into town today?" she asked hesitantly. There was a high possibility he would go at her again, they both knew. He had had a short fuse lately but he felt a bit calmer today. So instead Harry just shrugged his shoulders, his expression showing his disinterest, and grabbed another apple quarter.

She smiled wide, happy there was at least no resistance. This was as close to a 'yes' as she would get. She ran into his bedroom and came back out with a short hairbrush. While he finished his fruits, she tried to brush down his unruly hair before they left his home.

* * *

He walked with his head down beside her, the summer sun beating down on the back of his neck. He should have worn lighter clothes but he really had no intentions of going outside when he woke up. But again, she could get him to do anything, once he was in the right mood of course. She held his hand tightly, swinging it between them as they strolled the cobblestone path of the town. In his other hand were a couple of bags from the shops they had already visited. She chattered away beside him, just happy to be near him and to have gotten him to go with her, and he couldn't help the small smile that graced his features. He hadn't feel at ease for a long time. Though the feeling felt foreign, it was nice.

_'...he's gone mad they say...'_

_'...so much shouldered on such a young man. Poor thing...'_

_'...come children, let's go...'_

"**Aaaah!**" Harry screamed, throwing his hands up in the air, releasing Ginny's hand and her shopping bags. He tugged on the ends of his hair before pointing the direction of the gossiping witches. The mother and her two children scurried away while the other two women looked at him with a mixture of fear and thinly-veiled curiosity, like visiting the zoo. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated, the women unseen as he watched images of the fights, the struggles, the bodies, the blood, flashing across his mind, making him relive the pain and the hurt. Cedric's empty eyes... Sirius falling back into the veil… Dumbledore falling from the tower... Fred crushed by the falling debris... Remus and Tonks dead in the Great Hall... His own screams rang through his ears and erupted from his throat. **_Not again!_** He fell onto his knees, sobbing into his palms. **_Not again!_** He lifted his head slightly, his eyes darting around wildly like a cornered animal. There was more whispering, pointing, pity. They surrounded him, suffocated him.

He felt Ginny's arms circle him as she crouched down beside him. He leaned into her, his eyes closed and his chest heaving. She glared out at the crowd that formed around them, before picking up her bags and guiding Harry back home.

Once back in Harry's living room, she seated him on the couch, rubbing his back soothingly as he calmed down from his episode. He felt so weak and useless for acting so embarrassingly in public. Just more fodder to fuel their fires and run their rumour mills. At Ginny's soft cooing and kind words, his sobs had stopped and he fell back onto the couch exhausted.

* * *

He woke up and looked out his living room window. It was dark now, a cool breeze floating through the window Ginny must have left open for him. She must have left sometime during his sleep as he was currently the only one in the house. He ran his hand through his hair before rising from the couch. He went to the kitchen and made a cup of tea for himself. Leaning against the counter, he thought quietly to himself.

He was an orphan, just a baby when his parents died because of who he was and the potential threat he had posed to the most evil wizard of the time. He had a horrible childhood with his magic-hating, abusive relatives, made to think he was less than dirt. He thought Hogwarts would be his escape but instead it was another prison. Every year something happened, every year he almost lost his life. He and his best friend at the time, Ron, Ginny's closest brother, would get into impossible situations and face dangerous foes and by sheer luck, barely make it out alive. There was a possessed professor and a basilisk deep within the school. In his 3rd year, he was granted a reprieve. He had been given new hope: discovering his godfather, Sirius Black, and another friend of his parents, Remus Lupin. Harry felt like he had a true family of those who loved him. Maybe he would be alright now.

But it seemed like fate was laughing at him for by his 4th year, everything went downhill. He caused the death of Cedric Diggory and the return of the Dark Lord, his godfather died because of his rashness, his mentor died in front of his eyes, Fred Weasley was crushed under rubble and his last tie to his parents died in a battle that should have been his alone. Everyone died! Even he died! But by some strange magic he still didn't understand, he was alive. Alive while the others remained dead. Alive to relive it alone. He was the Boy-Who-Lived to live it alone.

He let out a low groan and put his head in his hands. He was never going to town again, that much was sure. He couldn't be around those people any longer. The last time he went out, it was uncomfortable but he had gotten through it. Today, they had evoked such a reaction from him that they had pushed him into his home, resigning him to his cage. Soon, the stares and the whispers would get even closer and there would be nowhere he could be safe.

There was nowhere else he could go. The friends he had while at Hogwarts wanted no more to do with him. They had all lost their own loved ones and he knew they blamed him for it. His surrogate family that had taken him in when Sirius and Remus could not, had abandoned him. They were scared, Molly scared for her children. He was the plague, death himself, sucking out the life of those around him.

His eyes fell on the small figurine he had placed on the side table near the doorway. He need to get out of this place, out of this town, as far away as possible. He needed to start over. He ran into his room, quickly packing a trunk with the few amount of clothes he owned and the money he kept in the house. He could leave the other things here. They weren't that important. No one would miss him. No one would know he was gone. There was flashbulb: _**Ginny**_. While the other Weasleys listened to their mother, or shared her sentiments, Ginny was still at his side, why he was not sure. She seemed to see something redeemable within him. She would definitely miss him but it was better this way, he thought to himself as he had many times before. But he knew would miss her. He penned a quick note before walking out his front door and apparating away.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Harry reaches Australia and gets his first glimpse of Hermione. Whoo! __So enjoy this chapter. Review your feedback please. I feel like this story is struggling for some reason and I just want to see it fly._

_Also maybe the title of the story needs an explanation. It's like the summary tried to explain: Harry was once loved by many but now he has no one else (except Ginny but he doesn't realize just how much she likes him). He has **lost love**. He's grown bitter and cold, and thinks he's no longer deserving of love. After a mental breakdown, he decides to g__o to Australia to heal, unknowingly __**looking**__ for someone so he may feel love again._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

Harry appeared at the International Portkey Station in London. International Apparation was very uncomfortable so Harry thought this was the next best thing. He strode up the witch at the ticket booth and bought a Portkey to Australia with the money he had from home. The witch handed him an old Chudley Cannons pin and within seconds, Harry was whisked away to the International Portkey Station in Sydney, Australia. After a shaky landing, he clutched his bag close and threw the pin into a box near the exit to the arrival gate and walked through the doors.

"Welcome to Sydney, Australia. There are many wonders and sights to see in Australia. We have-"

Harry looked to his right to see a young woman in a smart navy blue skirt suit. Under the jacket, she wore a pressed button-up white shirt and her neck was covered in a white scarf with a thick blue stripe. She seemed familiar to him but he had never been to Australia so where would he have seen her before? But she must have known him for her eyes widened and her voice had disappeared. Harry stared at her nervously. He came to Australia to get away from the stares and obvious gawking. Now the first person he saw stood speechless before him. He took a few deep breaths and looked around the lobby. It seemed she was the only one who noticed him and she had yet to announce it to the world.

He walked over to her with his hand outstretched. "Please don't say anything. I-"

She darted away from him before he reached, causing her coworker to give her an odd look before turning back to Harry. She smiled at him politely and said, "I'm sorry for my friend. Can I help you, Sir?"

He watched the girl run off before turning the corner. What did he do? He looked at the girl in front of him. She too was wearing the same uniform and she seemed to treat him normally. If everyone else was like this girl, then Harry would be fine. He smiled at her, slowly getting over the awkwardness of scaring away the other girl, "I'm new to Australia. Do you know any places I could stay? Not just a hotel but an apartment."

"We have a few brochures for first-time visitors. You can learn about Australia's history, muggle and Wizard, here's one for the attractions, and here's another about hotels." She dug around a bit on the short desk behind her. "And here's one more on possible apartments. These listings may be a bit outdated, but you can always check the newspapers for any places for rent."

Harry thanked the woman, spared one last glance in the direction the odd witch had disappeared and then exited through the front door of the Portkey Station.

The Station appeared as an abandoned warehouse called Portland Meats. There was broken sign hanging above the metal door Harry had just walked through with faded pictures of a cow, pig and chicken. Harry soon bought a newspaper from one of the newspaper boxes right outside the metal door. It seemed to be a wizarding paper as the different pictures on the front page moved as flashbulbs brightened the faces of the witches and wizards within.

It was slightly chilly here. Harry saw all the muggles walking around in thick jackets, the streets flowing with melted snow. Harry drew his jacket close his body, happy he had decided to throw it on this morning. He started to walk the muggle street and take in all the sights. Harry's watch said it was now 9:00 in England but upon glancing into a restaurant on his right, the clock read 6:00. Harry would have to get used to the time change and the temperature difference. It may have been summer in England, but it was winter here.

He stopped into the restaurant, a warm coffee shop, and bought a coffee and a chocolate chip cookie with the muggle money he had. Harry took a seat near the window and nibbled on his cookie. He pulled out the hotel brochure the girl had given him. There he saw a small map to the nearest hotel, a small star by the name stating it was part muggle and wizard. He entered the small lobby and spoke to the old man at the desk. He showed the man his Gringotts key and paid for a room for the night.

Once in his room, Harry thought to himself. He was in Australia, as far away from England as possible. What did he hope to accomplish here? Coming Australia was supposed to be therapeutic, something to help him cope and move on. He was definitely far from the stares and gossip, but what would he do now? He didn't know how long he was going to stay here but he wasn't going back to England any time soon. After a few months, maybe he would think about it.

He leisurely leafed through the other brochures and marked a few sites he would visit the next day. He also looked at the different apartments in the realty brochure and after making a few calls with the phone provided with the room (Harry assumed every room, muggle or Wizard, had these phones, though the wizards probably had no idea how to use them), he had already found three places that still had places to rent. He would also stop by those as well.

Feeling suddenly exhausted, he laid back on his double bed. He fingered the fringe on the edge of the green comforter while staring up at the white, peeling ceiling. He was finally alone, him and his thoughts. He thought of Ginny in a time like this. She always popped up when he felt alone but he no longer had her around. He hoped she wasn't too upset with him and that his letter would bring her some amount of comfort. When he was better, he would send her an owl. Hopefully he would have good things to say and she would be happy for him.

But then thought of the strange witch. Again, he had the feeling that he knew her, that she was a ghost who sometimes wandered in his line of sight, a short brown-haired ghost. His memory was bringing up blurred images of bushy hair, but the girl he saw today just had slight curls. He detected a slight British accent but she had only spoken a few words so he could not be sure. She was obviously a witch and looked to be about the same age as him. If she truly was from Britain, then she was probably in his year at Hogwarts. That could explain how she knew him, but everyone knew him. So who was this girl?

Harry drifted off to sleep that night, his mind mulling over the mystery of the brown-eyed curly haired witch.

* * *

Ginny knocked on the blue wooden door of Harry's house. It was a plain, one story house on the outskirts of town. Harry tried to stay as far away from people as possible after the war, his nearest neighbour a couple hundred yards away down the road.

When there was no answer after her third knock, Ginny pulled out her wand and whispered the door open. He would forgive her for barging in like this, she normally did but he least would open the door first. She walked in and called out Harry's name while pulling the fruit out of her bag like every morning. He still not appear and Ginny sighed. This would be a bad morning where he would hole himself in his room all day.

Ginny walked into his room silently. It was dark with the curtains drawn and she flipped the light on. His bed was empty and unmade, the sheets tangled on top. She walked into his bathroom, turning her nose up at the weird smells but still no Harry. Where could he have gone? He usually didn't leave the house for any reason, only buy some awful takeout, but never in the mornings.

She came back out into the living room and walked back to the counter. The living room was in the same state she left it yesterday, even the window was left open. Maybe he just went for a walk? **_That's it. I need to find him though, he might need me._**

Ginny packed up the fruit, taking a large bite into an apple, she wasn't very particular about her apples, and walked to the door. Just as she was about to push it open, her eyes fell on a small figurine on the table near the door sitting on top of a folded piece of paper. Her name was scrawled onto the card and she took it up to read.

_Ginny,_

_I can't take it here anymore. I can't go outside without people staring at me. I needed to get away. I need to leave London. I've gone to Australia to clear my head, far away from anyone who may know me. Hopefully this will be good for me._

_I don't know when I'll be back. I don't know when I'll talk to you again. Please don't be sad and please don't come after me. I will miss you but you'll be safer if you stay there. I don't want anything to happen to you._

_-Harry x_

That's it. Just a note and wish for her to stay still. Ginny's hand shook. Was she angry or sad that he had left with just a note to explain himself? She had been there for him and he just walked out on her. After all his talk about others doing to him, he did it to her. Ginny wiped at her eyes, tears welling her eyes but not would be strong. She would give him a few days before trying to contact him. Maybe he did need some time to himself.

Ginny pushed through Harry's front door, locked it behind her and apparated back home. If Ron was still home, he would no doubt interrogate her early return.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: In this chapter, we will see Hermione's perspective on seeing Harry in of all places Australia. And some flashbacks about their backgrounds. RxR, FxF._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

Julie walked into the breakroom of the International Portkey Station. She looked around the room before her eyes fell on her target. She walked over to the small girl with her head down on one of the many tables employees used for eating lunch. Julie pulled out the seat in front of the girl before tapping her head. The girl immediately lifted her head up, her eyes darting around wildly before focusing on Julie. Her cheeks flushed before she replaced her head on the table top.

"What was that back there?" Julie asked. She never once saw the girl act this way. The girl was muggle born and had moved to Australia from Britain with her family about a year ago after finishing her education at Hogwarts. She never spoke much about her life in Britain. The only thing Julie knew was she was very smart, even for a Ravenclaw student. "Did you know that man?"

The girl groaned, her hair splayed across the table, but said nothing else. Julie asked another question, "Who is he? He looks about your age. Someone from school?"

The girl groaned again. Julie was concerned now. She had grown to like the young girl, about 6 years her junior. Did that man do something to her friend?

There was muffled noise coming from the girl and Julie asked her to repeat. The girl pulled her head up and gave Julie a strange look. "You didn't recognize him?"

Julie returned her look. The man didn't look particularly familiar. "Was I supposed to?"

The girl's head fell again, "That was Harry Potter."

Julie gasped, "_The_ Harry Potter? The Boy-Who-Lived and defeated You-Know-Who? I don't know why I didn't see before but you're right. What's he doing in Australia?"

Hermione shook her head, "It's not bad that you didn't recognize him. He's very unassuming and he seems to not be that popular here in Australia, guess because it's so far from Britain. I don't know why he's here in Australia though."

Julie was still shocked. She was that close to the Boy-Who-Lived. For some reason, she felt slightly disappointed. He seemed so _normal_, but she wasn't sure what she was expecting really. He was only... 19? Barely an adult. Looking over at her friend again, she was still confused why he would elicit such a reaction from her.

"So what's the problem between you two? Do you know him personally?"

The girl groaned again. "It's complicated, Julie. But I never expected to see him again, especially in Australia. When I saw him, I panicked and ran off. He must think I'm absolutely bonkers."

Julie giggled. Maybe they were an item back in Britain but they way he stared after her didn't seem like he was looking at a past flame. He obviously didn't know who she was. "Well he was looking at you strangely, but nothing I would worry about. You probably won't see him again though. From what he asked me, he'll be staying in Australia for awhile, so he shouldn't have a reason to come around here."

Finally the girl sat up, placing her elbows on the table between them and nodded. "I guess you're right, Julie." Then she glanced at her watch, "I better get back to the greeting desk. Who did you leave there?"

Julie got up as well, "Ashley is still there. I'm just going to get a cup of tea before I come out to you guys."

The girl nodded, pushing her chair and walking to the breakroom door. Julie called out to here, "See you in a bit, Hermione."

* * *

_Hermione sat transfixed by the huge castle across the Black Lake, the many lights in the windows twinkling against the night sky. They were getting closer and closer, the boat rocking slightly as they glided across the dark waters with no guide. The boys were chattering excitedly but Hermione had drowned them out. She couldn't believe what she was seeing was real, that magic was real. She kept expecting to wake up in her little bed with her walkman she had gotten for her birthday on her bedside table._

_The boat stopped on the bank and they were all ushered out of the boats and into a large entrance hall of the castle by Professor McGonagall. She spoke to them before leading them in front of the whole school. Hermione's jaw dropped open. This room was larger than the entrance hall and all the students, magical students, were looking at them. They were all older, taller and smarter than her, doing magic all their lives. She wanted to be like them. She could be as good as them even though she wasn't born magical._

_They stopped in front of a hat on a stool which broke out into song. Hermione looked wildly around the room. Besides her classmates, the students looked at the hat boredly, some of them even looked to be sleeping. This probably was a usual occurrence, only magical to her._

_But then the song stopped, and Professor McGonagall began reading from the long list all her classmates' names. Each one sat on the stool with the hat on their head before it shouted out one of the houses. She had read all about Hogwarts in her textbook, wanting to know everything about the wonderful place she had been invited to learn. She had read all about the different houses, their founders, and those who were put in each house. She didn't know which house she would be placed in. She thought she was ambitions, so maybe Slytherin; she was kind and loyal, so maybe Hufflepuff; she was brave and stood up for those who were wronged, so maybe Gryffindor; she was smart, so maybe Ravenclaw._

___Some of them took longer than others and Hermione was starting to get worried as Professor McGonagall moved through the C's and D's. _Lost in thought, she almost missed her name being called. She walked up to the stool nervously. It appeared so much higher off the ground now. Professor McGonagall placed the hat on her head, the brim falling down over her eyes and blocking her view of the other students. _Then she heard a voice. It sounded wise and confident, like it had done this thousands of times before: _Oh Hermione Granger! Muggle-born but oh so smart. You know everything about our school and you're only eleven. My, my, I see you are cunning, hardworking, brave, unafraid, all admirable qualities for any house, but your intelligence truly outshines the others. Let it be **RAVENCLAW**!

_Hermione beamed at the applause from the other students, especially those with the blue and bronze ties, as the hat was yanked off her head. Her tie had turned blue around her neck with the Ravenclaw crest emblazoned on the bottom. She walked to sit with the other Ravenclaws and across from two boys who had been sorted before her: Terry Boot and __Michael Corner_. She looked back up, Professor McGonagall moving through the H's, J's, the L's, the M's and then the P's. Hermione was joined by a girl named Padma Patil who was a bit upset at being separated from her twin Parvati. 

_Then Professor McGonagall called out 'Harry Potter', and there were hushed whispers all around the hall. Hermione craned her neck, trying to see around the tall students, and spotted a short boy with messy black hair and big glasses walk up to the stool. The hat took a long time with him before it shouted "_**GRYFFINDOR!**_" and he walked amidst loud clapping from the Gryffindor table over to a group of smiling red heads. Padma leaned over and whispered to Hermione, "I thought he would be different. More amazing." Hermione just looked at the boy. He seemed truly happy to be here, just like her. Everything was already amazing._

* * *

_Harry and Ron were sitting in the Gryffindor common room. Harry was worried and scared. He felt like he was going crazy. He was hearing voices in the walls. The warnings from the Heir of Slytherin were getting worse. People were being petrified: first is was Mrs Norris, then Harry's biggest fan, Colin, then Hufflepuff, Justin Finch-Flethley and the Gryffindor ghost, Nearly Headless Nick. Everyone thought it was him, he was the heir of Slytherin. Only the Heir of Slytherin could talk to snakes. Maybe it was him. Maybe he was doing this subconsciously, or sleepwalking or..._

_Harry shook his head. No it wasn't him. He would never do something like this, he didn't know how to do something like this. He pulled out his Defence Against the Dark Arts. He had to finish his essay for that crack-pot Lockhart. He was flipping through the pages when a slip of parchment fell out. He picked it up and read the heading: "All About Basilisks". __**What's a basilisk?**__ Inside the margin of the page, there was a small scribble of the word, 'Pipes'._

_"Ron, listen to this," Harry said, alerting his friend. Harry begins to read the parchment outloud. It all made sense: the spiders, the blood, the pertrifications, and the weird voices in the walls. "Ron, there's a Basilisk in the school!"_

Harry woke up and picked up his watch on the bedside table. 9:00am. He swiped a hand across his forehead. His dream was slipping through his fingers like sand. It was about the Basilisk? and a note he had found? He never found out how that parchment got into his book but it was definitely a life saver. Without it, someone may have been killed. Ginny could have been killed.

_**No more bad thoughts.**_ He scrambled out of bed and went into the bathroom for a shower.

After buying a breakfast sandwich and coffee from the same restaurant as the day before, Harry visited the first apartment on his list. It was in the heart of the city but the rent was too high for him while he still didn't have a job. He went to the next but the conidition of the place was deplorable. The last one was a reasonable price and would do until he could get somewhere else. He would move in the next day.

He walked out of the third apartment and saw a sandwich shop across the street. It was past lunch now and Harry didn't realize just how hungry he was. He walked up to open the door just as someone was coming out. She ducked under his hand before he could even step out of the way, muttering a quick excuse me. Harry continued into the shop without giving the girl a second thought.

* * *

Hermione had left work for lunch at her favourite sandwich shop. The shop wasn't too far from the Portkey Station so she didn't mind walking. After ordering her BLT, she took a seat near the window and stared out at the street. Although muggleborn, she loved to watch the muggles stroll by, unimpeded by the world of magic around them. She thought back to how she was before she found out and wondered would she be happy without magic, would she happy just being a muggle?

There was movement across the street, which would have been normal as everyone was moving, but this was different. Hermione's eyes trained on the man who had just appeared on the sidewalk from the apartment complex. He walked across the road, narrowly avoiding the cars and towards the sandwich shop. **_No! No! No!_** She grabbed her sandwich, throwing away the remains and darted out of the shop just as he opened the door. She stopped on the sidewalk and stared in at the one she knew as Harry Potter before walking back to the Portkey Station.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Tada the big meet! This meet might seem cliche but I don't care about that too much. And we have more flashbacks._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

It was a cold Saturday morning when Harry checked out of the hotel. He pulled his jacket and duffle bag close to him as he walked along the busy sidewalk, even more crowded than he thought possible. Everyone seemed preoccupied to their own thoughts and Harry had been bumped into more than enough times. He groaned frustratedly. He just wanted to get to his apartment and away from all these people.

After walking up the flight of stairs to the second floor, Harry opened the door to his apartment. He smiled to himself, throwing his duffle bag onto the couch and entering the warm living room. It was a modest apartment and it fit Harry perfectly. The main room was painted light green, an island separating his kitchen from his living room. There was a single bedroom with light blue walls and a door to the white-tiled bathroom.

Harry's stomach gurgled and he almost laughed to himself. Normally, Ginny would have been over with his fruit. Now he'd have to find his own fruit. Maybe he would go to the market and pick up some things to stock his fridge as well.

He had just stepped out into the hallway, locking his apartment door when he saw the door to the apartment on his left open. "Come on, Hermione. We're going to be late." A girl said before she too entered the hallway. Harry looked at her and then he recognized her. She was the girl at the Portkey Station.

"Hi," Harry said with a small smile. Right now, she was the only one he knew in Australia, if only because she said more than two words to him.

Her eyes fell on him and she too seemed to recognize him. But it was strange. Her eyes darted from his face and into the depths of the apartment she had just stepped out of. Her voice seemed stuck in her throat as she stammered out a response to Harry and Harry started to feel uncomfortable. Maybe she didn't want to see him again or outside of her work. Harry would have turned away and just left her in the hallways but then there were a lot crashes and someone else barrelled out of the apartment and straight into the girl. They landed in a pile in the hallway, the first girl groaning under the weight and impact of the other girl. Harry bent down to help the two of them, pulling the second girl off the first.

"That looked kind of painful. Are you hurt?" Harry said, placing her on her feet and then helping up the first girl. Both girls were silent though their cheeks both turned red. He looked into the second girl's face and he realized he recognized her as well. She was the first girl who had run from him. Right now, she looked about ready to run again, if not for Harry's still holding her forearm.

Harry still had a nagging feeling that he knew this girl, and now she was right in front of him. He would definitely get some answers now. "I'm sorry, do I know you? You look familiar to me. Well I know I saw you the other day at the Portkey Station, but even more familiar. I feel like I've seen you even before that."

There was movement from the girl's friend behind Harry but he didn't see. The brown-haired girl looked around his shoulder and then jumped out his grasp. "I'm sorry, but my friend and I have somewhere else to be. See you later, Harry." She ran off before he realized she had said his name.

* * *

_It had been October 31st and everyone was in the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast. Hermione looked up from her pumpkin pie at the Heads table. All the professors were there except for the DADA professor, Professor Quirell. He was a strange one and Hermione always felt strange when he turned his back on her. A strong feeling of dread and hatred filled her heart and it baffled her why a teacher would hate her that much. She was smart, always polite and did her work on time. What could she have done? And there was also the fact that he practically bathed in garlic. Hermione spent as little time around the man as possible._

_Then there was screaming echoing off the walls of the hall outside the Great Hall. The large doors burst open and there was Professor Quirell. His eyes were wide, his skin pale and his breathing sharp. Then he stammered out, "Troll in the dungeons. Thought you should know," before fainting right in the passage._

_There was mass panic before Professor Dumbledore stood up and sent a bright flare into the room. Everyone quieted as he said loudly "Students, please meet your Head of House to lead you to your common room."_

_Hermione rose with the Ravenclaws and walked towards Professor Flitwick. Her eyes scanned the hall before she saw Harry Potter and the Weasley boy run off down the hall Professor Quirrell has come from. She broke away from the Ravenclaws and rushed after the boys. With her footsteps light, she tailed them until they all saw the troll. He was easily twelve feet tall and lumbered towards the boys until they were cornered in the girl's bathroom. Hermione watched as Harry jumped onto the troll's back as he swung at the red-headed boy. The troll tossed wildly and Harry shoved his wand up the troll's nostril. The troll's loud groan bounced off the walls and he flailed, his club dropping near his feet. Hermione aimed her wand at the fallen club and levitated it above the troll's head before releasing the spell. The club crashed onto the troll's skull, knocking him out cold before he fell with a loud thud._

_Hermione heard voices and quick clacking heels coming around the corner and she dashed off in the other direction. She was not staying around to get caught. Leave the Gryffindors there to receive their punishment bravely. Taking the long way, Hermione eventually made it back to the Ravenclaw common room. Padma told her that Professor Flitwick had gone back to help the other heads with the troll. Hermione quickly ran up to her dorm and settled in for bed._

* * *

Hermione returned from her day out shopping with Julie. It was tiring having to dodge all of her friend's nagging questions and to make up placating answers that neither of them believed was the full story. Eventually, Julie had to go to her own home and the two had separated. Hermione climbed the stairs of her apartment hoping she wouldn't run into-

And there he was. Sitting at her doorstep. His legs were drawn to his body, his elbows resting lazily on his knees. He was already looking at her frozen at the top of the stairwell but he made no move towards her. Maybe he thought he had scared her. She had given him enough examples already, including this moment. She was this close to sprinting down the stairs and as far away as possible. But she couldn't do that. She lived here and she would have to come home eventually. And he would still be here.

She walked up to him with her eyes looking anywhere but at him. When she ten feet away, he rose from her doorstep and smiled at her shyly. She wrung her hands nervously, wondering how she could secretly reach into her pocket for her key and slip by him.

"So hello again. We never got to finish our conversation this morning."

She blushed and started patting her pockets. Where was that blasted key? "Oh, really? I thought we had."

He reached out for her hesitantly before retracting it. He was scared of touching her and Hermione would have laughed. Harry Potter, Boy Wonder, scared of touching little Hermione Granger. "I still have this really weird feeling. I know you. From school?"

Her eyes widened and she finally pulled her key from her pocket. She tried to look cool as she placed the key into her door. "I was in Ravenclaw so you possibly saw me around." The door swung up as she turned the key. "Now if that's all, I have a few things I need to do inside."

She stepped through her doorway and that's when he really did grab her hand. His eyes flashed with what looked like a glimmer of courage before it quickly faded and he looked at their hands awkwardly. She smiled back, trying to free her hand, but he wouldn't let go. "Before you go, I have to know. What's your name?"

"I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger."

* * *

"Hermione Granger." Harry said the name outloud as he boiled some water in the kettle he bought today.

After the strange girl had run off with her friend, she had been on his mind all day. The mystery wouldn't leave him alone. Even as he bought fruit from the vendor a few blocks down, even as he went to a home and appliance store to buy things and furnishings for his apartment, even at the supermarket as he stocked up on groceries and fizzy soda that he could finally get his hands on. That's why she found him on her doorstep. He had waited there for her for at least 30 minutes. He had to find out who she was.

And now he had, kind of. He found her name. Hermione Granger. But it still didn't send any sparks through his brain. Hermione Granger. Granger, Hermione. The Ravenclaw. He really hadn't had many classes with Ravenclaws, and that's if she was even in his year. She looked his age but he could be wrong.

Harry took the whistling kettle off its base and plugged it out. He would eat one of those ramen things he bought from the supermarket. More junk food as Ginny would say. At least he had fruit this morning. He took a seat at his kitchen island while shoving forkfuls of the hot food into his mouth. Not even his burning tongue distracted though. He had to find out more.

* * *

_Harry stood outside the Great Hall with Parvati. He and the other champions were to open the Yule Ball with their dates with the first dance. Harry took a deep breath, mentally revising the dance lessons from the days before. He knew he would mess up and he had already apologized to Parvati ahead of time for stepping on her toes. She just smiled at him but he saw in her eyes that she knew her feet would have to be strong tonight._

_Harry glanced at the other champions. They seemed so calm and collected, like walking in front of crowds and dancing was second nature to them. Harry looked up at ahead at Cedric, and on his arm, Cho. He had asked her just to find out she had already accepted Cedric's offer. He had missed out on his dream girl._

_His eyes moved down the line to Fleur who had been by asked Roger Davies, a Ravenclaw boy in his year. He seemed rather dashing beside her but he paled in comparison to Fleur. She would have every eye on her, even Roger's eyes seemed glued to her already but she just looked around boredly. She could have any guy she wanted so no boy really impressed her._

_Then he looked at Viktor Krum, the famous seeker. On his arm was a witch he had never seen before, or maybe he had. She looked slightly familiar. She wore a periwinkle dress and her hair curled softly to one side of her face. She was very pretty, her eyes were chocolate brown and her smile was beautiful. Viktor leaned down to her ear and she giggled before swatting his arm playfully._

_Then Professor McGonagall came to lead them into the Ball. Harry took one last deep breath. This was it._

* * *

She was Viktor Krum's date to the Yule Ball! Harry woke up early the following morning. It was Sunday but he had no idea how early the girl next door got up. He planned to talk to her this morning and what better way than over a meal. Now was he being too pushy? Maybe. But it had been eating away at him all night. She was in his dream on Viktor Krum's arm. Had they been an item?

He went back to the fruit vendor, who was just setting up his stall, and bought a couple of apples and pears. He hoped she'd eat one of these. Everyone liked apples. And now he was knocking on her door. No going back now. Harry stood a moment before the door swung wide open. "Julie, what do you-" and stopped.

She froze in front of him and Harry couldn't help but look at her. She was wearing a thin tank top and shorts with a long robe thrown over it. Her hair was a mess around her head and now the bushy hair in his dreams didn't seem so out of place. Her face was slightly pink but her eyes seemed unfocused like she wasn't fully awake. Maybe he shouldn't be here. "Umm if this is a bad time, I can come back later."

She still hadn't said anything. Her hand was still on the open door and she just looked at him, her eyes darting from his face to the fruit and back. Then she stepped to the side, looked into her apartment and allowed him inside. "No, come in."

He stepped inside and moved straight to her kitchen island, spreading the apples and pears across the top. She walked past him and towards her kettle. He was looking around her apartment. It was the same size as his, and the island and kitchen cupboards and cabinets were the same, but she had furnished it differently. She had rearranged the furniture and also had a treadmill in the far corner of the living room. All along the walls were different frames, some with photographs, moving and stationary, and others held paintings. They were all truly amazing.

He was so distracted that he jumped when she said, "Would you like coffee or tea?" He cleared his throat and turned back to her. "Coffee is fine."

Soon the pair were sitting together at the island, both with their own cup of coffee and an apple in hand. He waited awhile before jumping into his question.

"So Hermione." There was a slight sign of recognition and he knew he had at least gotten her name right. She seemed to be a lot more alert with some coffee in her. "You were a Ravenclaw while I was at Hogwarts?"

She nodded and took a long drink of her coffee. Harry continued, "and you know Viktor Krum? You went with him to the Yule Ball."

Her eyes widened and she stared into her cup. "Oh, you remember that. Yes, Viktor was my date."

"Oh wow. I had a sudden... memory last night trying to place where I knew you from."

She seemed to fidget in her chair before she said, "Yeah, I was in the spotlight that night. Besides that, I never did much. I kinda stuck to the background for most of Hogwarts. People don't really notice us Ravenclaws. Think we were all nerds who stuck to the library." Then she chuckled to herself and brought her mug up to her lips. "Not that I didn't do just that. But hey, we're more than that."

He laughed, "Like what? You studied outside at times to get away from the library?"

"Yes actually. But not just that. We did other things. We liked the arts, so a lot of us formed art clubs, drama clubs, held dance classes. All the pictures on the wall are mine. We had a small group of us in a photography club and I was the president of our art club."

Harry's head spun as he looked back at the frames again. She had done those? "Wow, they're amazing." He said to her blushing face. "All I can do is catch a snitch every now and again."

Now she really laughed, "Oh Harry. You can and have done much more than that. But I guess if catching a snitch was the highlight of your life, then maybe being Harry Potter isn't all it's cracked up to be."

No being Harry Potter was horrible. All those who he had killed, all those who died for him. "No!" Harry shouted suddenly, causing Hermione to jump. He threw her mug across the countertop and slipped off and shattered on the floor. Hermione jumped out of her chair and crouched by the broken shards before looking at him and shouting, "What the-"

He was already stuck within his mind and took no notice of her angry face. He stood up and clutched the edge of the kitchen island until his knuckles were white. Fred's eyes stared up at him with empty eyes, the large stones crushing his chest and legs. His mouth started to move slowly and his voice came out strangled, _'Harry, why did you kill me?'_

"I'm sorry, Fred! I'm sorry!" Harry shouted.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder and his hand swung wildly, almost colliding with Hermione's chest. The images in his head disappeared and his eyes began to focus. He saw Hermione looking at him warily before taking a slow step back. His face paled as he realized he had his first breakdown since he left, in front of someone, and he had almost hit her, one of the first persons he met in Australia, someone who could have been his first friend.

He held his hands out towards her and she took another step back. In a panicked voice he said, "I'm so sorry, Hermione. I- I- I have to go now."

Before she could say anything, he wrenched open her front door and ran into his apartment.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Finally finished this chapter after a few weeks of no inspiration, though nothing much happens in it. After Harry's meltdown, Hermione is gonna go find out what happened to Harry Potter since he left Hogwarts. And they're gonna take a nice leisurely stroll through the park, an unofficial first date. RxR. FxF._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

What happened to Harry Potter? She knew he was under a lot of stress and expectation, first as the Boy-Who-Lived and then as the Chosen One, and even after as the Saviour of the Wizarding World, but he hadn't been that unhinged when the war was over.

Apparently something had happened since she had left a year ago. Something had broken within and she had gotten a taste of it a few minutes ago. He got lost, his eyes got wild and then he almost hit her before rushing out of her apartment in a panic. Should she go find him? It would be best but then her secret might be leaked.

She shook her head and then went into her bedroom to get changed. She was going to talk to him, her secret be damned. It obvious something was wrong and it had been a year. Her secret wasn't that important anymore.

* * *

_They were doing Patroni today in DA. He stood at the front of the group with the Weasley girl and boy at his side giving his introduction before he would split them up to practice on their own. Hermione stood with Padma, nervously twisting her wand in her hand. What if she couldn't do it?_

_Then he was moving about the room, correcting wand technique and pronunciation. He stopped before her, looked at her, probably for the first time he ever actually saw her, before he smiled and said, "Yes, just like that. You're doing fine." Then he moved away._

_"Remember think of your happiest memory!" he shouted above the crowd. Hermione practiced the movement and the pronunciation while trying to think of her memory. Her first report card? No, not enough. Baking pies with her mum or going to the office with her Dad? No, not enough._

_Then she felt it, the memory not even long enough to latch on to before the spell was on her lips and the form spilled from the end of her wand. A cute otter paddled in lazy circle around her head before it disappeared._

_"Excellent job, everyone!" he said and she saw his eyes meet hers, the light shining through them. Before she could dwell on it, before she could think about what her memory had been, Padma stepped before her._

_"That was great, Hermione. You have to help me," the girl said frantically before pulling her away. She looked back, those green eyes looking proudly around the room. She knew the memory had something to do with those eyes._

* * *

She knocked on the door once, twice, three times. Did he leave? Did he even go back to his apartment? Hermione wasn't sure, but she didn't want to leave knowing the last time she saw him, he had gone crazy.

Maybe she should just go back to her own apartment and wait awhile, give him some time to breathe and recollect. But then there was a loud thump, a hard slam which shook the floor underneath her, and lots of shattering glass. She quickly opened the door with her wand, not caring about how angry he could be about her breaking-and-entering later, and pushed through the door.

It was a warzone in here. The kitchen cupboards were blown to bits, the few wooden slats and sides splintered with the doors barely hanging off their hinges. The refrigerator too was damaged and spilled food decorated the floor, mixing with the broken glass. The living room was covered in a layer of white plaster, sugar coating the ripped couch, the overturned coffee table and the toppled bookcase in the corner. Surprisingly, the TV was unharmed. Shattered plates which had been taken from the kitchen led a path down the hall.

His rage, then anguish and madness had evolved into rage once more it seemed. Hermione gulped, unsure of what she would find at the end of the ceramic trail. Would he try to strike her again, aim a plate directly at her head? She held her wand out. She would be ready for him.

The trail stopped suddenly outside the door on the left. The door on her right was open to reveal a small blue painted bedroom, the bed bare but missing its top sheet. She assumed then that the door on his left led to the bathroom.

There was a choked sound followed by another shattering noise. He was holed up inside the bathroom. She pressed her ear to the door and a hushed sound met her ear. Hermione took a breath and turned the doorknob, surprised to find it move under her hand. But maybe, he thought no one would get this far if his front door was locked.

The floor was covered once more with broken shards and she wondered how he hadn't run out of plates yet, eyeing the still relatively tall stack near his hand hanging over the edge of the bathtub. He was sitting inside the tub itself, his head up against its edge, and wrapped tightly in the sheet from his bed. His hair and body were soaked, probably from the shower head that was still raining cold water on him. His lips trembled as he brought the bottle in his hand to his mouth, most likely something alcoholic.

He still hadn't noticed her in the doorway and just continued to stare at the wall opposite him, his gaze far away. She approached cautiously and reached out a hand to turn off the faucet. Just as her hand entered his line of sight, his eyes fixed on her. Her breath hitched and she wondered what he would do now, but he did nothing. He looked at her as if he was seeing a spectre, simply a figment of his imagination.

With the tap turned off, the bathroom became much quieter, the silence only broken by the random hiccup or sob from his throat. She then reached slowly for the bottle in his hand.

He sparked to life and his hand shot out, gripping her wrist tightly. She tried not to squirm as he tightened his hold, analyzing her hand carefully. It stayed that way for awhile and Hermione was about to stun him when he suddenly threw her hand away, pulled the bottle to his lips again and drank.

She moved around to get away from his hands and closer to his head, her feet stepping nimbly over the broken pieces. She whispered kind words, her voice soothing as she encouraged him to get out of the tub, dry off and give her the bottle. He seemed not to have heard her though, his attention already leaving her.

She sighed. This was not going well and she was still slightly scared of him lashing out. She aimed her wand and stunned him. His head lolled back, rolling against the edge of the tub. His arms fell limp and the bottle upturned, dowsing his already wet body in alcohol.

She levitated him from the tub, droplets wetting the floor and took him over to his bed. Trying not to care about soaking mattress, she let him now and slowly unravelled him from the sheet. When he was free, she performed the drying spell, knowing that he would still get sick from the cold.

He seemed a bit more peaceful, but of course he was stunned. Before she could even remove the spell, it seemed to worn off on its own as he rolled over and promptly vomited over the side of the bed. It was mostly liquid which confirmed to Hermione that he had drunken most of the bottle in one go. With a clearing cough and groan, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, his eyes drooping. Hermione would leave him for awhile, he was in no state to talk now.

* * *

After closing his bedroom door, Hermione went into the bathroom first. The damage was less extensive here she noticed as she moved methodically around the tiled room. She hadn't realized at first that he had also cracked the bathroom mirror and some the bathroom's wall and floor tiles. She wondered how he had done this as she still hadn't found his wand. There was a bit of blood on the cracked glass of the mirror and she made a mental note to check his body for wounds. She repaired all the broken fixtures and the plates, which she stacked in a pile in the hall outside the door. She would carry them to the kitchen as she fixed the plates out there as well.

She ran back to his room and as she expected, there were small cuts on both of his hands. He did not stir as his skin stitched itself up by her healing spell. She picked the soaked sheets off the floor, noticing the part that had been in the vomit and shook it out, allowing his wand to roll out and clatter to the floor. After drying the sheet and clearing the mess, she picked it up the wand and took it with her to the living room. She would give him back when he woke up.

She waved her wand at the ceramic trail, each repaired plate landing onto the floating stack behind her. Why did one man need so many plates, she did not know, but soon they had found their way back into the repaired cupboards. The glass shards were once again full glasses and found their places in the cupboards as well. She fixed the refrigerator as good as she could but he would need to have someone check out if it was functional, and he would have to buy more food.

She vanished the plaster, the room looking much better already. The bookcase was righted, and the coffee table placed on its feet. She pointed her wand at piles of glass and instead of flying into the cupboard, they flew onto the bookcase into the form of picture frames, the pictures fitting snugly inside. She saw that red-haired boy from school and a girl who looked like his sister. They were just smiling at the camera, the two red-heads looking at the smiling boy between before looking back to the camera. This looked like it could've been taken in their 5th year. What happened to this boy? There was another picture: Harry and that same girl looking much older. Harry had a sour look on his face but when the girl grinned at him and then threw her arms around his neck, he gave a small one reluctantly. She was probably his girlfriend then.

She was tired now, using that magic in one go. After checking on her patient one last time, she finally pointed her wand at the ripped couch and then relaxed to watch some TV.

* * *

_Those screams again, a female crying out for the life of her son. A high-pitched laugh, unmerciful but mockingly granting reprieve. The green light as the lady makes her last cry._

_Harry woke up, the room dark but he wouldn't have seen anything without his glasses anyway. He wasn't not sure what had woken him up but he was glad it did. After the dementors and even after the chocolate, the screams would not leave him alone and he doubted they ever would._

_He heard some shuffling from around him and he tensed. Someone was in the room with him but he couldn't see them. He made to move his hands but he was still very weak._

_Then there was shushing noise near his ear and a cold cloth on his forehead. He made to move his head to see the person better, but they held his head in place. He started to open his mouth but the voice shushed him again. He realized it must have been a girl from the size of the hands and the sound of the voice. Her fingers started to rub circles on his temple and he found the motion soothing, his thoughts fading and his pain disappearing. Eventually he nodded off to sleep under the ministrations and didn't hear as the girl tiptoed out of the room._

* * *

Harry woke up with his head hurting and his neck sore. He looked blearily left and right, wondering where he was and where his glasses were. Somehow he realized he was in his bed, but he was so weak, he couldn't move his arms or legs.

As he waited for blood to flow to his limbs, and his head to clear, he tried to remember how he had got here. He shivered and he remembered that he had been really cold, and wet. He felt very sluggish, and he realized he must have been drinking, the alcohol flowing through his veins impeding his thoughts and movement. Slowly, he raised up and got to his feet. He had just enough energy to get to the kitchen and get something for his head.

He padded slowly out of the room, the muffled sound of voices reaching his ears. Had he turned on the TV? He didn't think he would have been watching TV if he had also been drinking. Then he saw someone sitting on his couch and the sight almost looked surreal. There was flash of some memory and his living room hadn't looked like this then, nor with the person in it. The person turned at his arrival and he saw it was the girl from next door.

She sprung up and ran over to him, practically dragging him over to the couch. She lay him down on a pillow and blanket that had obviously been waiting for him and handed him his glasses as she sat beside him. She was a flurry of motion around him and she asked, "How are feeling? Are you cold? hot? Any pain?"

He opened his mouth and croaked out, "Head..."

She produced a flask out of nowhere and threw it down his mouth so quickly, he sputtered most of it out. She frowned and then poured the rest slowly, allowing him to swallow.

His headache faded and his memory was coming back. He was over the girl's house this morning and then he freaked out, ran over her and started to smash everything in sight before he ran into the bathroom. He looked at the girl sheepishly as she still hovered over him with a concerned look on his face. She gave him a glass of water, which he drank before saying, "Thank you."

"No problem," she said as she took the flask and glass away from him, before walking to the kitchen. "I had to make sure you were ok after this morning and I'm glad I did."

He blushed a bit before saying, "I'm sorry about this morning and what you had to see. I lost control and almost took it out on you. I'm very sorry for that."

She frowned a bit and then said, "I understand that you didn't mean it."

He groaned, "It just happens sometimes and it's just so hard to stop it. I zone out and I don't know what's happening around me. It got so angry afterwards, I wrecked the place..." He seemed to be asking a silent question as his eyes scanned the room.

Now she blushed, "I cleaned up a bit. The place was practically destroyed."

"I thank you for that as well. Let me make it up to you," he said, trying to get up from the couch.

She came over and pushed him back, "After you take a nap, we can take a walk and you can make it up to me."

She sat back on the couch, putting his feet on her lap and went back to watching TV, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. She really was an enigma, but he was looking forward to their walk. After their walk, he thought to himself as fatigue washed over him once more.

* * *

He woke up feeling much better and saw the girl still under his feet, but instead of watching TV, she was reading a rather large book. He chuckled, the scene seemed awfully familiar but he knew he had never seen her read before. Probably just his mind creating the typical Ravenclaw girl.

She looked from above her book as he began to stir and she smiled. Placing her book on the coffee table, she allowed him to swing his legs onto the floor. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

He stretched and returned her smile. "Much better, but very hungry. How about we make that walk lead us to some food?"

She got up and then extended her hand to him, "Lead the way."

They left the apartment and she ended up leading the way as the only place he knew was the coffee shop. She led them a restaurant which allowed to each get something substantial in their stomachs. The conversation was light, both knowing that this was not the time for such talk and it could wait until later.

After dinner, she led him to the park and they strolled the paths which was lit by short yellow lamps which led to the fountain in the centre. To the right was a small ice cream vendor. They each bought a cone of their favourite flavours, and took a seat on a nearby bench.

They were enjoying each others company as they ate their ice cream but the suspense was killing Hermione now, so she said, "Are we going to talk about what happened this morning now?"

He sighed and then took a long lick of his ice cream, purposely dragging it out so she had to hit him. He chuckled but then his expression grew grim once more. "Let's finish our cones then. This will take awhile," he said.

* * *

_A/N: You'll get Harry's explanation and know Hermione's secret in the next chapter. It's not that big a secret but it is because Harry doesn't know._


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: I hate having to write Harry's past over and over again, because I know we all know it - who died, who didn't, the Dursleys, but I guess it has to be done so that Hermione can learn about about it. Read a book, Hermione! Ugh._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

Once rid of the sticky sweets, they resumed their spots on the bench and Harry began his story.

"So many things have happened in my life, Hermione, and very few of them were good things. You know the first story at least: Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, whose parents died to protect him and by some unexpected turn of events, Voldemort was vanquished. The world rejoiced but no one really cared about the orphan."

He scoffed and stared out at the fountain, not wanting to meet her eyes, "I was sent to live with my magic-hating muggle aunt and her family where I was treated as nothing more than a common house-elf. I slept under the stairs even though there was a perfectly usable bedroom upstairs. I cooked their breakfast, made their beds, scrubbed the toilets and swept the kitchen, from the age of five years old. Can you imagine a five year old trying to manage a frying pan and then getting screamed at if his hand just happened to touch the edge or the egg was slightly burnt? Well I didn't think any of it. I didn't know any better because I never really had any friends. I didn't know that in their households, five-year-olds were supposed to be playing with toys and learning how to ride bikes."

He spun to her and there a sad glint in his eye, like a mixture of hope but also one that realized that hope was useless, " Then I found out I was special. I went my whole life up to the point not knowing exactly why my relatives hated me or that I even had magic. I was whisked away to a whole new world of excitement and wonder and I was happy. I felt like I was worth something. But this world has done me nothing but stomped on me repeatedly."

His voice got heavy when he reached this part and he went back to looking at the fountain. This was the hard part where it caught up to where he was now. "I've done things a normal pre-teen and teenager shouldn't have to. I almost died every year at Howarts because of some bizarre twist or someone else's negligence. And I've seen more death than anyone should. People have died in my name and I'm the one left behind to mourn them and feel their souls weighing on my heart.

After the final battle, with all those deaths on my shoulders, there are a few that stand out and those are the ones that haunt me, those are the ones that wake me up and keep me up at night, those are the ones that give me daymares and trap me inside my head. This morning, you triggered one of them and I just lost it and acted out. I'm still sorry about that, by the way."

Then he chuckled and grabbed her hand to squeeze it tightly, "I'm actually trying to keep from slipping away right now. I wouldn't want to freak out on you again or you may never talk to me again." There was playful tone in his voice but she could tell there was an underlying fear that she really would run from him.

She squeezed his hand back and said, "Don't worry about me, Harry. And I know it isn't much, but I'm sorry that your life had to be that way. I'm sorry that no one even took the time to talk to you, to find out the real Harry Potter, and not the Boy-Who-Lived or the Chosen One."

"Thank you, Hermione," he gave her a grateful smile and then startled her by pulling her into a hug. She froze in his embrace and he pulled away quickly, his face tinging pink. "Sorry about that."

She giggled embarrassingly, "No, don't be. It was just unexpected." She pulled him into a hug of his own, and they held the embrace for a while. Harry was just amazed that he had told someone his story and they still wanted to be around him.

He released her and said lightly, "Going through Hogwarts, I only Ron and Ginny, and then that was reduced to just Ginny. I lived a very solitary life." Upon Hermione's confused look, Harry explained, "Ron and Ginny Weasley. Ron was my best mate and Ginny was his sister from the year below."

"They were in Gryffindor like you?" Harry nodded and Hermione continued, "I don't really know much Gryffindors."

"Because you Ravenclaws were stuck in the library," he said with a cheeky grin.

She shoved him playfully, "Maybe you Gryffindors would benefit from staying in the library with us. Then maybe I'd have met you earlier, Harry."

"That would have been nice," Harry said wistfully.

It was getting late anhd Hermione mentioned she had work the next morning. They rose from the bench and walked in the direction of their flats. They talked more about each other, learning their likes and dislikes, and Hermione talking about her job.

They walked through the main entrance of the apartment and acsended the stairs. They were talking more about Harry's time at Hogwarts, keeping the subjects light so as not to cause any rifts.

Harry laughed as Hermione joked about the random things her dormmates would leave lying around and said, "You know it's funny though. All those times when I thought things were bleak, these odd things would happen around me. I'd find little notes or strange objects that really ended up helping, sometimes just with my homework."

Hermione blushed and rushed the few steps towards their doors. Harry looked at her worriedly and asked, "Did I say something wrong?"

Hermione eeked out while rummaging for her keys, "Not at all, Harry. I just remembered I have to... iron my clothes. Right. I'll see you tomorrow after work. Bye." And with that she disappeared into her apartment with a slam.

Harry scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly standing in the empty hallway. "What did I do?" he muttered, before walking slowly into his own flat.

* * *

_A/N: I'm terrible, aren't I? Poor Harry still doesn't have a clue. I know I said he'd find out now, but it didn't fit in here. But he'll definitely find out in the next chapter. Stay tuned._


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Harry's finally figured it out, after so many little things. What will Hermione say when he asks her to explain? I know I've been behind with this story. Please don't be mad at me. RxR. FxF._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

Harry knocked on Hermione's door the next morning, another armful of fruits in hand. It was deja vu, but this time things would be different. She had run off so quickly last night and he just wanted to make sure everything was okay.

A voice called out from within, "It's open!"

He smiled before pushing the door open and closing it softly behind him. "Do you always leave your door open for strangers to enter?" he asked grinning at her as she walked around her apartment in her work uniform.

She laughed and said, "No one visits me this early on a workday. So it was either you or a very polite robber."

He placed the fruit onto her kitchen island as she walked towards the kettle. "Tea?" she called out.

"Sure," Harry said as he walked about the apartment once more. These pictures and paintings really were exquisite.

He walked straight up to a painting that was obviously the Quidditch Pitch, though looking down from somewhere high above. Maybe she had seen this perspective from the Ravenclaw Tower. It was set in the night, the tiny stars twinkling even in the bright light of her apartment. Three posts stood at each end of the pitch anticipating the next match to be played. He stared a bit lower to where she had signed her name, 'Hermione', in little cramped writing with the paintbrush. It looked slightly familiar...

"Here," she said with a smile as she stood beside him and offered him a warm cup of tea. He smiled and took it from her.

She turned to the painting herself and said, "I painted this sometime during my third year. The Quidditch pitch at night was always so spooky especially with those things floating above."

Harry squinted his eyes and now saw what he had first missed. Like haunting shadows, long black figures hung above the grass. That had really been a bad time.

He shook his head and walked quickly away from the painting with the cup to his lips. Hermione walked up behind him, "Sorry about that."

"No, it's fine," Harry said as he took in another picture. He looked again at her signature at the bottom of this photo of a pile of school books. This writing was a bit more elegant but still similar to the first and still familiar.

Hermione took his empty tea cup and returned to the kitchen. He walked behind her and took up one of the apples. He spied a pile of letters and against his better judgement, decided to snoop.

"_Terry, I'm happy to hear that your photos have finally been accepted for the gala. I expect an invitation soon. -Hermione._"

This was her current handwriting and he looked at the way she dotted her eyes, the steadiness of her penmanship, the slight lilt of her 'e's.

* * *

_Harry sat in the library with his head on the table. He had to get this Potions assigment done for class tomorrow and he couldn't even get started. He couldn't find the right text or enough information to even think of a topic sentence. He looked at the large clock above the door to the library. The library would close in less than 30 minutes. What was he going to do?_

_He rose from his seat. He would go out and search for another Potions book. Maybe if he wrote enough about another topic, he could still get marks? Harry doubted it but he had no other choice._

_When he returned to his seat with two more books, he saw a strange new book in his chair. He looked around but no one else was around his table. Placing his books down, he took up the one on his chair. The book immediately opened to page 54 - '**Gurdy Root and its Medicinal Properties**'. Harry read the page in shock. This was one of the topics for the essay. On the page was also a slip of parchment - '**Check pages 43 and 94 for the other ingredients**'. Harry couldn't be happier. He went right into his essay, not caring how or who the book came from._

* * *

"It was you," Harry said softly while looking at the witch standing at the sinks.

"Pardon," she said before placing the clean cups on the drying rack and turning to him.

"It was you who gave me that potions book in the library," Harry said while tilting his head. He was sure, completely positive. It had to be her.

Her eyes widened and then she started bustling around the apartment faster. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Potter. What Potions book?"

He walked over to her and grabbed her hand, "A Potions book appeared on my desk in the library one night, the exact book I would need to complete my assignment. And it was you."

"Me who what, Potter?" she asked, her eyes narrowing defensively.

"You left the book on my desk with the note," he said quietly. He felt good that he had discovered something, but his brain was still tingling as if there was still something he was missing. She was trying to get out of his grip sneakily but he held on. Then he looked into her eyes, "Did you ever do that more than once?"

"Why do you think I left a Potions book for you?" she screamed, tugging out of his hand hard and then walking towards the door.

He walked behind her and said, "Because I know I'm right. And you haven't even denied it yet."

She spun to face him and said very slowly, "I didn't leave a Potions book for you, Potter. You're bloody crazy."

He rushed up to her and said, "You're lying."

"How would you know, Potter? You've only known me for like a week," she asked while throwing her hands up in the air.

"Because you're getting all defensive and I've only asked you a simple question," he said calmly.

She groaned and then grabbed her small bag by the door. "I have to go to work, Potter, so if you don't mind," she said as she pulled the door open and gestured to the hallway.

He walked forward and instead of stepping through, grabbed her hand. She frowned at him but he didn't care. He said softly, "I just want to say thank you, Hermione. You really saved my arse that day, and any other time you may have left me note."

She blushed and he thought he heard her mutter, "You don't know the half of it."

Then he stepped out the door and said, "I'll see you later, Granger," before walking into his own apartment.

* * *

_Harry needed to finish his DADA essay. He flipped through the pages of his book when a slip of parchment fell out. "**All about the Basilisks**", and in the margin, '**Pipes**'_

Harry jumped up and realized he had fallen asleep on the couch. After Hermione had left for work, he took a seat on the couch and decided to take a short nap before he went outside. But he was startled awake by another dream, another memory really. He saw the word 'Pipes', just as clearly as he saw the name 'Hermione' scribbled on the bottom of the haunting painting of the Quidditch Pitch.

She had given him the clue about the Basilisk in the pipes. She had helped him solve the mystery of the Chamber and save Ginny from Tom Riddle. If it hadn't been for her and her clue, things would've gone much worse than they had.

How had he not known? Why had she not come forward sooner and told him who she was and what she had done? And if he recalled, this wasn't the only time those helpful notes showed up. Why did she do it?

Harry spent the rest of his day wondering, who was Hermione Granger?

* * *

Hermione was tired. She had a long day of greeting travelling wizards, chasing a bratty kid who ran into the breakroom and resetting the portkeys. It didn't help that throughout the whole day, Julie had asked her a million questions about Harry: 'What was he really like?', 'Why did he leave England?' and the important one, 'Are you and him going to get together?' She was glad to see quitting time roll around at 6 pm.

When she got to her apartment door, there was a note tacked onto the wood - "_Hermione, when you get home, please knock on my door._"

Hermione wondered what could be so important that he would leave her a note. And wouldn't he just wait outside her apartment for her like he had the night before? This was different.

She walked straight to his door and knocked. He opened it and she smiled before realizing the one on his face wasn't as heartfelt as the ones she had gotten used to.

"Are you alright?" she asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," he said hoarsely. "Please come in."

He let her step past and then shut the door behind her. She spun to face him and asked, "So what's up, Harry?"

He cleared his throat and then asked, "Why are you so involved in my life, Hermione Granger?"


End file.
